torture lust lament
by enter name here
Summary: georgeoliverfred... slash, twincest and all of that other nice stuff...rr--chapter two up--
1. thirst

Oliver Wood placed his head under the heavy stream of water; it jets forward, bouncing off of his skull as his shoulders finally relax. Quidditch plays still screaming in his brain as he reached out for the soap, hoping to somehow rid his body of the sweat he'd produced in his own harsh training tactics. He didn't even nod or look up as Harry shouted at his departure, he just stood, content, for the moment that all was calm and he could be at peace with his focused thought. He always looked forward to showering, no battles, no arguing, and, of course, no injuries.  
  
Perfectly safe.  
  
He winced as the water began to beat down on the, rather lovely,  
piss yellow bruise that graced his left calf. The soap suds, slid  
down his body, slinging to his flat stomach before giving heed to  
the water and flowing in the metal drain.  
  
He could forget now the constant hassling from Fred and George, the  
narrow collides between Harry and Alicia, forget Draco Malfoy and  
his fathers fancy brooms, the nagging in the back of his mind that  
this will be his last year, his last chance to not fail, to not let  
everyone down. again. His hands rose to his face, clearing the  
water from his eyes as the two hands slowly pushed there way  
together on Oliver's' bare torso, the persons chin resting gently  
on his shoulder.  
  
"Wood, I'm not quite sure I'm mounting the broom correctly, maybe  
you could give me some pointers?" As the person pulls Oliver  
closer, he pries their hands from off his chest, stepping from  
under the water to shake his head and look at the would-be pursuer.  
  
"Fred.erm, George?!" The tall red haired boy shrugs, resting his  
hand on Woods stomach. Oliver backs away again, looking quickly for  
anything to cover himself up without loosing eye contact with the  
Weasley twin before him, noticing the towel hanging near the door;  
he begins to back forward, a small smirk playing on the Weasley's  
lips. Wrapping the towel, tightly around his hips he moves towards  
the boy, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Bloody hell what are you  
trying to fucking pull?"  
  
His smirk fades as the younger boy stumbles under Oliver's  
pressure. The skin around Woods hands, a brilliant white, the  
freckles even fading in color.  
  
"You need to calm down." With one last shake Oliver releases the  
boy, causing him to lose his footing and stumble back a few feet.  
The shorter boy rubs his hands over his pale face, pushing his  
mahogany hair to stand up in damp spikes, his eyes close as his  
tongue stumbles over every segmented sentence his mind can almost  
form. He suddenly darts forward, his five-foot-nine frame attaching  
onto the auburn haired boys. His chapped lips landing centimeters  
from the younger boys nose and he began to slowly trail down to  
the, now immobile, boys mouth.  
  
Suddenly unthawed, his hands work up to the flesh just above  
Olivers' towel, moving in strong, steady circles as he tries to  
bring Olivers warm body closer to his own as the older boys lips  
finally land on the other boys shoulder, his hands entangled in the  
Weasleys' dripping hair. For the first time in years, Quidditch has  
been pushed from his thoughts, his brain simply pulsating with pure  
lust for this fifteen year-old boy before him, the same boy that  
has caused Oliver sleepless nights with his endless gags and basic  
attitude of doing absolutely nothing unless it ensured that he and  
his twin would be in dire trouble because of it. He let out a low  
moan as the boy pushed his back against the tiled walls, the  
freezing marble just adding to the extreme pleasure of this entire  
encounter. The boys taste filling every nerve ending, the feel of  
his skin being instantly locked in Olivers mind.  
  
"Who. are. you?" 


	2. covet

a/n really shitty, short chapter, but I wanted to update so here you go, not nearly enough action, but I'm new to an actually slash story. please review, help the battered and broken ego known as enter name here. if you do that I promise the chapter will be up more quickly, if you don't well then wait another month, but it shall continue..  
  
-----  
  
His words stumbled out between gasps as the other boy, rocked back  
on his heels, noticing the thin barrier of white cotton that rested  
between their bodies. He shook his head, going in for another kiss;  
he reveled in the obvious discomfort of Oliver, now not as  
passionate, probably thinking over both his and his twin brother's  
face trying desperately to match his face up with either. He pulled  
back, shivering slightly even in the steam filled room, a smile  
pulling at his lips as he sees Olivers creased brow, usually this  
look was saved for Quidditch practice, but now the auburn hair boy  
got to enjoy it for himself, he had confused his captain and was  
enjoying every second of it.  
  
Of course he realized this was a lot for Wood to take in one day  
and his withholding of his own name wasn't going to help matters  
any, so he slowly opened his mouth, ready to betray his identity-  
  
"Oliver!" the yell echoed through the almost empty locker room,  
filling both of their ears. Oliver pulled up his towel, rubbing his  
face, almost franticly. A few moments later looking at the younger  
boy, his usually clear completion now stained with a deep crimson.  
  
"I, erm, have to go." His Scottish brogue sliding over every word,  
succeeding in making Weasley even more distressed by Oliver's  
abrupt leaving.  
  
And he was gone. Weasley just sighed, watching the last spot Oliver  
had been visible as if he would suddenly reappear and it was  
difficult for him to let go of that hope. He pulled him self away,  
throwing the towel towards the wall before pushing his head under  
the pounding water.  
  
-----  
  
She brushed her brown hair from her shoulder, glancing over as he  
walked slowly beside her, noticing the rashes that covered his  
face, she pushed in closer, pressing a long index finger into his  
flesh. His body tensed and he turned towards her quickly, his eyes  
large, as though he was trying to feign innocence.  
  
"What happened?" He shrugged his hand landing gently on his cheek.  
  
"Practice, you know." And he just hoped that was an adequate  
enough answer for her. She shrugged back, giving him a tiny smirk  
before kissing his cheek. This again caused him to tense. "I've got  
to go find Harry to, um, go over plays, I'll see you." She nodded,  
cocking an anorexic eyebrow in his direction and even chose to  
dismiss his leaving with out touching her.  
  
-----  
  
He pulled the curtains of his four-poster shut, trying desperately  
not to glance at Percy as he sat, scribbling away at his desk. He  
could feel his brain pounding against his skull, threatening to  
implode with all this excess information, his organs being ripped  
apart with overwhelming guilt. Something he was far from used to. 


End file.
